One Last Bedtime Story
by Little Katu-Muffin
Summary: Post-OotP, some spoilers. Ginny misses her older brother dearly and tries to find a way to deal with it. (Incest version)
1. Chapter 1

Intro:  
  
Hello, and thanks for choosing to read this. All normal disclaimers apply (ie, I don't own the characters, etc). If you are offended by incest, do not read this story. There is a cute and fluffy version of it on this account, which will hopefully satisfy your need for fluffy bunny Ginny/Percy love. The love in this story is decidedly less healthy than the other story's.  
  
***  
  
Ginny stared through her fingers at the floor. It had been ages since it had all happened. The fight, between Percy and the family. Molly had locked Ginny in her room, not that it did much good, as the raised voices had echoed completely throughout The Burrow.  
  
Ginny missed him. He had always been her favourite brother, though she was always afraid to admit it to her other brothers. She remembered sneaking into his room at night to ask him to read her a bedtime story, in her younger years. He would always read to her the most obscure books, often quite boring, but she could tell by the way he read them that he enjoyed them, and it was more to be around him while he was enjoying himself than to enjoy herself around him. After all, he so rarely got a break from his younger brothers that it was quite worth it to see him happy.  
  
But that was all gone now. Of course, the storytellings had ended years ago, just before Ron's first year at Hogwarts...but there had always been the unspoken bond between them, the knowledge that she could go back if ever she wanted. Now that was gone. The room opposite hers was locked, and mostly empty anyway. She sighed to herself and lifted her head. She brushed her hair out of her face. It was dirty, and hadn't been brushed in a few days. However, it was surprisingly neat, considering. Her mother kept pestering her about it, telling her to brush and wash it, insisting on a trim, and asking her if this was her way of rebelling.  
  
She stood up and approached her bookshelf. She absently ran a finger across the coarse bindings of the books' spines, not really taking in any titles. She'd read them all, anyway. All the Piers Anthony and Douglas Adams and Terry Pratchett her father had bought her ("Fascinating, the worlds Muggles concoct!"), along with her old school books and some other books she'd bought originally just to look cool ("The Compleat Poems of Longfellow", for instance. And even a Dictionary.). But even as she looked at the faded lettering on the spines, she knew in her stomach what she was going to do. She stared at the bookcase for another second, head tilted to one side, just for token value, and then walked purposefully to her bedside, snatched up her wand, and left her room.  
  
"Alohamora," she whispered, and the lock to Percy's old room clicked almost inaudibly. She opened the door and shut it behind her. The room smelled of disuse. The dust on the desk was alone, except for a half-empty pot of ink and some unfinished drafts of an old essay for the Ministry. The bed still had the bedclothes on it, meticulously neat and untouched by anyone since Percy last folded them. His blue-and-white pinstriped pyjamas, the ones all the Weasleys wore (there had been a sale, and Molly bought two pairs for all her children), lay folded perfectly on the nightstand beside the bed. The window still had the curtains drawn, and the only light in the room came from the stifled moonlight shining through the curtains.  
  
She turned to the bookshelf. Percy had left all his books on it, likely because he planned on coming back for them, but never got around to it. Ginny looked at them. The Art of Lacemaking. Nearly 120 Uses For A Broken Wand. How to Effectively Sell Cauldrons To Picky Customers. Ginny reached down and picked out Percy's old favourite, Why Read Fiction, When Documentaries Are So Real? She didn't open it, but instead walked over and stared at the bed. The sheets had last been stroked carefully into place by her older brother's long, meticulous fingers. On the one hand, she didn't want to disturb that. But she had a most pressing desire to crawl into the bed, snuggled under the practical cotton-and-feather comforter, and sleep.  
  
Eventually, emotion won over logic. She reached down and, with great care and reverence, lifted the covers, slid out of her slippers, and crawled into the bed. It was cold, but she found, with great joy, that it still smelled like Percy. She snuggled into the pillows, her book clutched to her heart, and imagined that she was lying next to him again, listening to his matter-of-fact voice wash over her, telling her about the raptures of non-fiction. She imagined the feel of his bony hip, just next to her face, as he sat up against the pillows and read to her until she slept.  
  
She dreamed, eventually, that Percy finished the second chapter and looked down at her. He smiled, obviously grateful for the excuse to really enjoy himself, and lovingly stroked Ginny's head, being quite careful not to catch his fingers in her tangled hair. He lifted her up in his arms and carried her across the way, bringing her into her own room, laying her on the bed, tucking the covers up beneath her chin, and kissed her, softly, on the forehead. That had always been her favourite part. Often times, she would pretend to fall asleep, just so that she could enjoy being tucked in by her older brother. Ginny knew that she was the only who saw that side of Percy, ever. She selfishly hoped she would always be the only one.  
  
She woke up the next morning in her own bed. 


	2. Chapter 2

***  
  
When Ginny opened her eyes the next morning, she couldn't, try as she might, remember her dream. She felt vaguely disappointed, but this was overrun by the fact that she couldn't recall getting up to go to her room. All though, the more she thought about it, the more she felt like she had gotten up at some point to return to her own room. She shrugged, it was too early in the morning to think of such things.  
  
She stood up reluctantly and looked in the mirror. She looked a mess, really, hair mussed and dirty, eyes bleary from staying up too late. She applied a quick combing charm to her hair (it took longer than usual), and wandered up to the next floor for a shower. The bathroom was empty, which meant that she was probably late in waking. The early-morning bathroom rush tended to happen around 6 in the morning. This was, frankly, a ridiculous time to wake up in the summertime, but everyone wanted to wake up early enough to miss the early-morning bathroom rush. It was all rather ironic.  
  
About a half hour later, Ginny stepped out of the bathroom, clad in purple bathrobe, and perfectly groomed. She made her way into her room ayo change. She noticed a small, black, leather-bound book lying face-down on her bed. For one terrifying moment, she thought it was Tom Riddle's diary, but as she warily turned it over, her stomach returned to its normal position. It was Percy's book, the one she had slept with the night previous. However, the sick feeling in her stomach failed to go away, merely changed from a sort of dread to an empty, gnawing, longing feeling.  
  
Where was Percy, now? Where was he staying? Who was cooking his meals? Was he staying with a girlfriend, or in a hotel, or in his own house? Who did he read to at night? She wished that -   
  
"Ginny, wake up! You'll miss the best part of the day!" cried Bill, who was home for a few weeks to visit.  
  
"I'm up, I'm not missing the best part of the day, thank you," Ginny called back. She dressed hurriedly and stuck the little book up under her pillow. She would go back to Percy's room that night, to return it.  
  
***  
  
"Good night, Ginny," said Molly, from the doorway. Ginny smiled and said good night as well. She had a while to wait. First Molly had to go downstairs, and then Fred and George would have to pass through to get to their rooms, then Bill would get into the room directly below hers, and finally, Molly and Arthur would retire to their room, but not before checking in on all their children.  
  
It was not hard for Ginny to stay up. She was excited and a little scared about venturing into Percy's room - it was technically not allowed. No one had verbally said that it was off-limits, but it was common courtesy to leave it empty, though common courtesy to whom, Ginny had no clue. She fiddled with the edges of the binding for nearly a half hour before Fred and George decided to retire. Not long after, she could hear the exchanged good-nights the next floor down, as Bill went to bed. Then, footsteps on the staircase.  
  
Ginny's door creaked open, and she immediately froze, facing away from the door, eyes clamped shut, both hands under her pillow, paused in mid-fondling Percy's book. She heard her parents say something incredibly softly, and then shut her door carefully and continue upward. She made sure she heard their room door shut before she dared turn her light one.  
  
She removed her hand and the book from beneath her pillow and stood up. It was tempting to keep the book. It was, after all, the only thing she had to remember him by, other than old family photos, which unfailingly brought her to tears, now. Why shouldn't she keep it? But then...it did belong to Percy, and if, for some reason, someone went into his room, they might notice it was gone. They might also notice the messy sheets. Thatsettled it, she had to go back, in the name of not getting caught.  
  
She quietly made her way into the other room and shut the door, breathing heavily. The room was very much like it had been the night before, dark and unwelcoming to anyone but her and the room's owner. The bedsheets were lying half-off the bed, though, and there was a large gap in the top row of books on Percy's bookcase.  
  
She replaced the book on the shelf, carefully, and turned to the messy bed. She smoothed the undersheets out with one hand, staring absently at the bed. She wondered if they still smelled like Percy. She leaned down and sniffed them. They did. They still smelled wonderfully clean and fresh and vaguely male, like Percy always smelled. Surely there would be no harm in sleeping here another night? So long as she got up again, like last night?  
  
***  
  
Ginny visited Percy's room every night for the next week, making sure to wake herself up in plenty of time to get back to her room, always setting the bedclothes back perfectly, and locking the door as she left. There were a few scares, one time when Fred snuck out of bed, presumably to go see his girlfriend. Once more when she forgot to lock the door as she left, but luckily Molly just assumed that the locking charm had worn off after all that time.  
  
Ginny vowed that she would be more careful. It didn't occur to her to stop her visitations, because it had almost become the sole reason for getting up in the morning. Quidditch with Ron was nice, talking to Fred and George about getting their own apartment was frankly amusing, and listening to stories about Bill's work was fascinating, but their presence was nothing compared to the imagined presence of Percy every night. However, if she wanted to continue her night life, she would have to be more careful.  
  
And for a time, she was...But on Bill's birthday, no one went to bed at the normal time, and Ginny was almost prepared to skip her nightly ritual. However, as always, the emotional draw won over logic. She had to admit, she was addicted. She barely waited for everyone to return to their rooms before rushing across the hall and silently entering the forbidden room.  
  
She looked at Percy's still impeccable timepiece. It was nearly 3am. That was the time she normally got up to leave Percy's room. She thought to herself that she should just go back to her room. But...certainly if she just slipped under the covers for a moment, just to get his smell on her, so she could sleep well in her own room...? That couldn't be too bad. She climbed into bed and wrapped the comforter around her cheeks, breathingly deeply and enjoying the feel of the fabric against her face. She leaned her head back into the goosedown pillow, and the softness and the warmth were so comforting that she fell asleep near-instantly.  
  
***  
  
"Ginny!" called Bill's voice, sounding concerned. This was then echoed in many other voices, all around the Burrow. Ginny sat up with a shock. She was still in Percy's room. She hastily jumped out of the bed and made it. The voices calling her were beginning to go from worried to slightly panicked. She finished smoothing down the comforter, and opened the door, just a crack, to see if anyone was on her floor, and she could just sneak out. She screamed as a pair of fingers grabbed the door and swung it open. It was Bill.  
  
"Ginny! What the hell are you doing in Percy's room?" he shouted, not angry but obviously shocked. Immediately, two pink bunny slippers followed by a red knitted lounge-robe and Molly Weasley's face rushed down the stairs from the above floor.  
  
The look on her mother's face was indescribable. It contained equal parts of relief and anger, and some lesser parts of ebbing worry. Ginny looked away. She'd been caught. She'd been caught, and now what? Would her mother lock her in her room at night? Would she just put a better locking charm on Percy's room?  
  
"Virginia Marie Weasley," Molly said, and her tone was as strict as if Fred and George had flown their father's old Ford Anglia directly into the Ministry itself, "What were you doing in Per-in that room?"  
  
Ginny just looked at the floor and said nothing.  
  
"Ginny, what were you doing?" Bill asked again, more quietly. If Ginny closed her eyes, she could pretend that her mother wasn't glowering at her. She was only speaking to Bill. Just talking to Bill. No, no, it wasn't working. She could feel her mother glowering at her through the Great Wall of China, and a pair of closed eyelids weren't going to help.  
  
"I just...missed Percy," she said quietly, "I wanted to...Oh, I don't know! Just leave me alone!" She cried, and, with that, rushed past Bill and her astonished mother, opened the door to her room, and slammed it behind her. She threw herself onto her bed, pulled the covers up over her head, and fumed. Why shouldn't she visit her brother's room, anyway? Percy wouldn't have minded her going in, at least so long as she didn't mess with anything on his desk. Percy would have let her do it.  
  
After about an hour, Ginny was beginning to wonder where her mother was. Normally when she ran into her room like that, her mother came in very shortly afterward to continue their talk. Just as she was thinking this, however, her door opened a little. But instead of her mother, Bill walked in, quietly, as if into a dragon's lair. He sat down on the very edge of her bed and put a hand on her calf, which was the only part of her he could reach.  
  
"Ginny," he said softly, "I know how hard it must be for you. It's hard for all of us. Even Fred and George, who insist that we had enough siblings without him. I told mum to leave you alone for a while. I'm sorry if that was the wrong decision."  
  
"It wasn't," said Ginny, through her blanket, "I don't really want to be yelled at."  
  
"She doesn't want to yell at you anymore," Bill said, and there was a long pause.  
  
"So what's my punishment?" Ginny said, finally.  
  
"What? She's not going to punish you. You didn't actually break any rules, Ginny."  
  
"But she is going to lock the door with a better spell, isn't she?" she said, listlessly.  
  
"I don't know," Bill admitted, "We haven't talked about that. Ginny?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"How long have you been sneaking in there?"  
  
Pause. "What makes you think I've been sneaking in there?"  
  
"The fact that the ceiling in the bathroom across from my room is decrepit at the best of times, but lately it's been falling apart. It hasn't done that since Percy left. Which means, obviously, that someone is in his room. I assumed it was just the ghoul or something, but I'm guessing it was you."  
  
Pause again. "It was me," Ginny said, tiredly, "I've only been going in there for a week or so. It's getting hard to sleep in my own bed, because I'd rather sleep in Percy's."  
  
Bill gave Ginny a weak and vaguely worried-seeming smile, "Look...I don't know if there's anything to be done for it. I don't think you can keep sleeping in Percy's room, of nights. But I would suggest to you that you talk to Fred and George. They're quite handy. And now, sis, I am off to go meet some of my lads, who are taking me out as a slightly belated birthday present. I hope things turn out," he said, kissed her head through the blanket, and left, shutting the door behind him.  
  
***  
  
A little while later, Ginny got out of bed, and made her way upstairs. She knocked on the door to Fred and George's room, which turned out to be a mistake. The door that had touched her knuckles remained touching her knuckles, pulling away only slightly, like liquid latex. She pulled her hand away as hard as she could, but to no avail. She then placed one foot on either side of the door, and pushed. She made a little headway, and then smack back into the door, cheek, torso, and hand, so she was now thoroughly stuck. To make matters worse, Fred then opened the door violently and Ginny hit the wall behind the door with some speed.  
  
"OW!" she cried, and cursed. Fred and George rushed to her side of the door.  
  
"Sorry, Ginny, thought you were Ron," George said, and sounded as sorry as the twins ever did for their handiwork.  
  
"I see you have fallen for our little gum baby trick!" Fred said, with a mock African accent. Ginny just rolled her eyes.  
  
"What exactly is the point of this one?" she asked, out of the side of her mouth.  
  
"We call it the Sorry, I Was Out. It's to keep visitors from leaving until you get back."  
  
"Very nice. How do I get out of it?" she asked.  
  
"Well, right now, you don't," Fred said, and Ginny groaned. But George laughed.  
  
"No, no, we're kidding. We'll show you, but hold on," he said. Ginny nodded.   
  
"Hurry up, I think I'm getting a splinter in my face."  
  
Fred and George both went to the inside of the room and shut the door, leaving Ginny stuck to the window like some weird sort of cartoon. There was a pause, and then she heard George say, in a high falsetto, sing-songy way, "Come iii-iin!" Then the door sucked her into the room and reformed itself as if nothing had ever happened.  
  
"Well, I like the last bit, anyway," Ginny said.  
  
"Thank you, I designed that bit myself," George beamed.  
  
"So, sister dear, what brings you to our neck of the woods?" Fred chimed. Ginny remembered what she had come up for, though she didn't actually know what to say, when it came right down to it.  
  
"Um...Bill told me to come see you. About...about Percy."  
  
George flinched slightly at the name, which made Fred burst into riotous laughter. George looked at Fred in astonishment.  
  
"What? What are you laughing about, you loon?"  
  
"Ahaha, George, do you know, ahaha, that you flinched?" Fred cried, and George looked scandalized.  
  
"You would, too, if mum clipped you on the ear every time you mentioned him!" he cried.   
  
"Well, she wouldn't do that if you'd ever say anything nice about him, occasionally," Ginny pointed out.  
  
"What would I want to do that for? He's a git! Look, Fred, you have obviously taken too many Loon Tablets, now please stop laughing!"  
  
Fred giggled himself to a stop. "Sorry...it's just...for a moment it was like when Harry says You-Know-Who's name, and everyone flinches. And...just...You-Know-Who Weasley is a terrible name. Lord Weasley. Ahaha."  
  
Ginny was personally completely unamused by this display, though George seemed to have finally gotten the joke. She cleared her throat.  
  
"Anyway, yes. What about our ex-nearest and never-dearest?" Fred said, finally.  
  
--to be continued-- 


End file.
